Pittsburghese
by X-Hayze-chan-X
Summary: Crack, based off a thing from Civics class and the whole "the G-20 is in Pittsburgh" thing. If you speak Pittsburghese and are easily offended, don't read it. T for swears. NOW TAKING REQUESTS FOR OTHER US ACCENTS!
1. Pittsburghese

**A/N: I don't have much internet time, so when I do I tend to take advantage of it. **

**The inspiration for this fic? I was in Civics class, and since we're relatively close to 'Picksburgh', we had a Pittsburghese lesson. It was pretty damn funny. So I googled Pittsburghese (did you know some Pittsburgh museums sell Pittsburghese dictionaries?) and there's an honest-to-goodness Pittsburghese dot com, with a real English-to-Pittsburghese translator. And with the G-20 coming up I figured Alfred would be spending quite a bit of time in Pittsburgh. So he'd have to start speaking Pittsburghese. I don't speak it except for a few words here and there or if I'm trying to bother people, but a lot of people in my family do and it's Goddamn annoying. I didn't mean to offend anyone, and if I did, just buck up. Seriously, Americans are way too easily offended. And I will make a fic about that, don't you worry. But if you're a Pittsburgher and get offended when made fun of, I suggest you press that little back button. Or go watch porn instead. I don't really care. I just figured Pittsburghese would be one of Alfred's least favorite ways of speaking, (because Lord knows how many different ways of speaking there are in America) and that's why he was blushing. I dunno. **

**Warnings: Pittsburghese bashing, foul language, the fact that I don't provide translations, and implied US/UK at the end. And I think this is my shortest fic ever, OMGZZ!!! And yeah, this is my first bit of crack. Do enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: Same as always. I don't own APH or its various nouns. Nor do I own the countries themselves. But that would kick major ass. Just sayin'. **

When America walked into the meeting, everyone knew something was off.

"Hey, how're yinz doone?" he asked cheerily.

Romano was the first to speak up. "What… the hell…?"

"Haven't you butchered my language enough?!" England spat.

"Wha're yinz talkin' abaht?" Alfred asked, confused.

"What is that hideous language you're speaking?!"

"Language?" Alfred seemed confused. "Wha language?"

"THAT ONE!" England shouted.

"God, don't be so nebby, Iggy!"

This was definitely going to be a _long_ meeting.

After the meeting, England cornered America and dragged him into an empty room.

"What the _hell_ was that?" he spat.

"Wha da hell was wha?" America countered absently in that God-awful butchered language of his.

"No one could understand a bloody word you were saying, you git!" England snarled.

"Yeah, and yinzes one to talk?" America retorted. "No one can understand yinzes Goddamn British slang."

"See!" England exclaimed. "That's what I'm talking about! All that 'yinzes' crap has _got to fucking stop!" _

"Yinzes?"

"You've been saying things like 'yinz' and 'yinzes' and 'nebby' and 'abaht' and 'wha' and it's bloody_ annoying!_" England all but shouted.

America simply blinked in confusion. "I have? Rilly?"

"YOU JUST BLOODY DID IT AGAIN YOU SODDING WANKER!" England shouted angrily.

America seemed lost in thought for a moment, then said, "Wait a minute, wah kind of tings have I been saying, exactly?"

"Things like that!" England said, a little more calmly. "And it's getting annoying, so quit it."

Alfred shook his head. "No, yinz hafta gimme an example. Otherwise I'll have no idea wha yer talkin' about. I dint know I was talkin' different 'til ya pointed it out."

England sighed. "Fine." He thought for a second, then said, "During the meeting you said something along the lines of, 'I'm a hero and yinz are alls my backup!' as per usual."

America thought for a second, then his eyes widened. "Donkey-doo, I dink I know wah's gowen on!"

"Hm?" England asked.

America, blushing profusely, said, "Woll, da G-20 is gowen in Picksburg, and I've been spending a lot of time dere, and so I guess... I guess Picksburgese has sort of become my default language. Cuz wheneverever I go somewhere in America, my speech changes so I fit in."

England pieced what America had said together in his head. "So… you're saying that the G-20 is in Pittsburgh, so you've been spending a lot of time there… And… Wait a sodding minute, Pittsburgh has its own _language?!" _

"Sadly," America muttered.

"And how much longer can we expect you to speak like this?" England asked faintly.

"I dunno… a month or two?" America responded. "Depends on how much time I spend in Picksburgh."

"Oh, God…" England muttered, turning a slight shade of green. He didn't know how much longer he could take this…

"Iggy?" America asked warily, afraid to say anything else. However, he just couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Are yinz Oakel-Doakel?"

Suddenly, England got a determined look on his face and grabbed America by the sleeve, dragging him resolutely out the door.

"Wh –" America started, but England cut him off.

"No. Don't talk until I get you _far away_ from 'Picksburgh' and somewhere much more _tolerable_… God, I think I even prefer the _south!" _

"Wheres abahts are yinz taking me?" America asked.

England only walked faster. "_Anywhere_ in America that isn't Goddamn _Pittsburgh! _Because I swear to God Alfred, if you don't lose that _ridiculous_ way of speech, I will never sleep with you again!_" _

**_Fin_**


	2. Boston

**A/N: This little ficlet goes out to Allyon Everstone, as my first request! Go you with your bad self! *big loud celebration with confetti and passerbys going, "Wtf"* **

**... yeah. So, I was asked for one with a Boston accent, and then agreed that it HAD to be done. It's short, because I had no time, but I think I'm going to do this thing where they just go across America, getting every different accent until England just gives up and they have hot, hot makeup sex. Until then, it's still T for his language. **

**Next is southern, and then New York, but if anyone has other requests for accents, please ask me. I need to know more, and since there's probably everyone from every state on here, that totally works out. **

**I gotta leave soon, so here! STandard warnings and disclaimers as set out in the first one! **

England had made a terrible mistake.

Sure, he was glad to be rid of that God-awful Pittsburghese, but now he had a new challenge to face…

_A Boston accent! _

"England! England! Get in the cah!"

"Why put my clean clothes in the drawrers? I'm gonna weah them anyway!"

"The pahty last night was awesome!"

_Why did I ever take him to __**Boston**__?_ England thought painfully.

And here was America again. England groaned.

"Iggy, ah we going to the pahk?" he asked excitedly.

"NO, WE ARE NOT GOING TO THE BLOODY PARK!" England yelled. True, this did sound the closest to an English accent out of all America's accents, but it wasn't really and truthfully this was bloody annoying.

"Jeez, what's with you?" America asked. "And you promised we could go to the pahk!"

"What's with me?" England repeated icily. "Oh, I don't know, maybe that your damn accents are starting to piss me off!"

"Well, that's what you get fah taking me to Boston!" America retorted. "Nah come on, the Red Sahks game is starting."

"THAT IS IT!" England shouted. He started to pack America's and his things quickly. Boston was a bad idea. A bad bad bad bad bad…

"Iggy! What ah yah doin?" America asked.

"No. More. BOSTON." England ground out. Once again he grabbed America's sleeve and dragged him out of God-awful New England.

"And by the way," he said, "I'm petitioning to have the name of 'New England' changed. Nowhere that speaks like that shall share my name. NOWHERE!"

America sighed. This was probably going to go on for a while…


	3. Tennessee

**A/N: Yes. I finished the Southern accent. **

**K, so, my Pap and Gram live in Tennessee, and I picked up a little of the accent from their last visit. And I used it for this. I got one of those anonymous reviews that I can't reply to, but the person represented theirself as inuzrule, but the person requested that when I do southern accent I specify where it's from 'cuz different states have different variations. You learn something new every day, huh? Well, I had already expressed that it was Tennessee, but thanks for reminding me anyway. **

**Shit, I got a lot of feedback on this. Thanks for reviewing/requesting/favoriting/alerting goes out to the following: **

**Azeeza, Allyon Everstone, ninbunny alchcemist, XHibiscuit, Megami Yari, ninjafox369, Diviner's Superior, yolapeoples, LilGothicPanda, Yumetsukihime, BlueMyst19, barefoot11, DeepBlueInk, Neola.20, and Fabeled-the-Wolf. Also the anonymous inuzrule. I forgot to do this last chapter, so here it is! I never thought this would be so popular; I was actually pretty sure a lotta people would be pissed off. **

**So, I have a list of requested accents and the names of all who requested them, and I'll be doing them all. They all take a bit of research, though, so that I know exactly how to write them accurately. Next is New York. Any requests will be done, and the requesters of them will be recognized. **

**So, I'm having health issues with this story. I just found out that I have astigmatism, and I won't get my glasses for a while, and so I have to go close to the screen to see it better, which is NOT A GOOD IDEA. Still, I will keep going. **

**Standard disclaimer/warning[s] applies and I'm sorry for the long notes. Here. **

He had really done it now.

England was so desperate to rid America of that horrid Boston accent, he just drove until America grabbed the wheel, shoved him into the passenger seat, and yelled at him for "driving on the wrong side of the road with your eyes closed!" Basically until he was so tired he fell asleep and dreamed he was driving at home. Because America was yelling so loud that he was barely coherent, England didn't hear any accent and was calm enough to actually heed his warning and stop.

By then America insisted (by frantic waving and pointing, because if he spoke England would surely lock him in the trunk again and who knows when he'd be let out?) that they go get some rest. England, tired and harried, agreed, pulling into the parking lot of the nearest hotel.

He was so tired that he practically sleepwalked to their room, America supporting him most of the way. America put him in bed gently after helping him into his pajamas, after which Arthur fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, he woke up to Alfred watching television. Surprise, surprise.

England got up and whacked him over the head, earning an indignant "OW!" from America.

"Whut was thayt for?" he asked.

Arthur's eyes grew to the size of saucers at least.

"Good mornin' ta yew too," Alfred muttered.

"Oh God no…" England felt as if he was about to faint.

"Ah'm gunna use the phone," America said, rolling his eyes. "The rest a' the world's prob'ly startin' ta wonder whar we weynt."

England just stood there, feeling a horrible terror, as America dialed the number for the UN.

"Howdy, y'all!" he said loudly once the other Nations finally picked up. "Nah, Iggy's bin draggin' mey awll over. Hea took mey ta Bostin, an' now wa're in Tennessay. No, ah ain't got the foggiest ahdea whar hea'll tayke mey next. Ah jus' know hea ain't gunna stop until ah sound… Ah dunno… Yeah, thayt's eeit! Yer pritty smart, y'know thayt? Uh… Ah gowtta go… wa're prob'ly gonna git goin' agen, Iggy's got thayt look on 'is face. Yeah, thayt one! Bahye."

And sure enough, England was wearing that look of murderous determination. It was becoming a routine now; England grabbed America's sleeve and dragged him to the car. It was all becoming too mundane. Alfred only rolled his eyes as England muttered to himself.

"…Why I went bloody _south_ I have _no_ idea! Never again. Never never never never never…"

"Whar we goin' nahw?" America asked.

England shot him a glare and said, "North. _Far_ north."

Alfred sighed. How much longer until Arthur just gave up? He was missing lunch!


	4. Brooklyn

**A/N: Heh. These are way too damn fun to write. **

**I felt kinda pathetic that I'd only done one in a whole week, so here's one in (I believe) less than an hour. It's New York accent, as promised. Well, I wrote it in less than an hour, but I waited to upload it until now because I felt that I didn't give adequate space between chapters otherwise. **

**Okay, so I didn't know what New York accent I was gonna use, but thanks to Azeeza I did Brooklyn. Without your guidance this would have taken that much longer and been that much crappier. Thank you. :) **

**I'm working on getting internet at my Dad's house, but until then I have limited upload opportunities. Just bear with me on this, K? **

**I would now like to acknowledge the following: **

**Azeeza and greenpanic6 **

**for their beautiful reviews. I'm still taking requests, everyone. Srsly. Just do it. **

**Standard disclaimers and warnings apply. **

**And I would like to say RIGHT NOW before you read this, that this was REALLY EFFING HARD TO WRITE. I swear, Brooklyn is SO hard. You have no idea. Unless you've tried; then I feel bad for you. So any mistakes or whatever, deal with it. It was much harder than Pittsburghese, because I didn't have a translator for this one, and it was harder than Boston, because you just take out 'r's with Boston, and it was harder than Tennessee, because... it just was. **

**Okay, I'll be working on the rest of these the best I can. **

**And... COMMENCE! **

England had once again underestimated the horrors of their next destination.

All he knew was that he wanted to get north. Far north. Because, quite frankly, Tennessee may have been one of the most annoying accents he'd ever encountered.

He passed straight through Pennsylvania and avoided Pittsburgh entirely. They ended up in Brooklyn, because how bad could it be? Oh, England was dead wrong.

"'Ey, Iggy," Alfred said, "Look ove' dhere. Ken we go dhere?"

"Alfred, you're speaking terribly!" England hissed.

The aforementioned Nation rolled his eyes. "Tell me somethin' I don' know."

"… What?"

"Ah, it's already tree o'clock! We missed lunch. Ken we go get some cwofee?"

England shot him a withering glare that effectively shut him up.

For about three point one five seconds. Then:

"Oi really wonted some cwoffee!" he whined.

"Here," England said, handing him some money. "Go get a hamburger to shut yourself up for a while."

"Yur money's no good," America said. "You don't use dwolla's."

"Then pull one out of thin air or something like you usually do!" England snapped, not in the mood to argue and point out that they could trade it in. "I swear to God, the one time I _want_ you to eat one of those grease patties, you _don't!_"

"Sworry," he said. "Jeez. Not for nothin', but you really gotta get that huge stick outta yur ass."

'_Not for nothin'?' _England thought incredulously. _There is really something wrong with this boy. _

After a few hours of words and phrases England couldn't understand in an accent that stuffed his language through a meat grinder, he had had enough.

"ALFRED, YOU BLOODY WANKER!" he yelled. "I CANNOT STAND YOU BUTCHERING MY LANGUAGE FOR ONE MORE SECOND!"

This, of course, caused multiple onlookers to stare blankly. Alfred just waved them off with a stage-whisper of "He's British."

"I heard that, you sodding git!" Arthur growled. "We are getting you _out_ of here, _right now!_ Do I make myself clear?"

"Chrystal."

"God," England murmured, once again taking America's sleeve and dragging him along. "It's as if they use as little effort as possible when speaking! It's like a 'who can move their mouth the least' contest."

"Yeah, pretty much," Alfred said.

England yanked harder on Alfred's sleeve. Alfred just sighed.

Maybe tomorrow he'd wear a t-shirt.


	5. New Jersey

**A/N: This is the last one that I do that I myself came up with. From now on it's requests. **

**Which reminds me: I got a request from an anonymous reviewer, known only as She who was too lazy to log on. She requested a California accent. Now, I would message her back and ask her what kind of California accent she wanted, be it Valley Girl or Surfer Dude or any other one there might be, but I can't because it's ANONYMOUS. So I have a request for my requesters: If you're going to request something, PLEASE don't be anonymous, unless you absolutely do not have an account and are absolutely unable to make one. Because if I have a question for you, how can I contact you? By taking up space in my Author's Notes? No. So please, anonymous sender, send me a PM or something with a specific California accent. Please. Otherwise, I won't know what you want. **

**Sorry about that little rant, but it was necessary. **

**Now, I went to my good friend Mr. Google and looked up New Jersey accents. So everything here is from urbandictionary and (primarily) this one YouTube video from a girl who's actually FROM New Jersey. If I had anything wrong, I'm sorry. **

**And you've probably noticed by now that exaggeration is my friend. I like to overdo the accents. Over-overdo them. So yeah. **

**I forgot that in Pittsburgh they say 'gumbands' instead of 'rubber bands' so I added it. **

**ALSO: If you can guess why I used the name I did for the person Alfred made friends with, I will give you a special prize. I am not shitting you. But seriously, I just couldn't resist. XD So, the first one to guess right gets a prize, and anyone else gets an honorable mention. **

**Thanks to the anonymous reviewer I told you about for being the only commenter. I uploaded this pretty quickly, I guess... Meh. Well, here it is! **

Why on earth did England drive to New Jersey?

Sure, this was pretty tolerable compared to a few of the places they had recently visited, but he couldn't understand a word America said!

He neglected to put the 't's in a lot of his words, and they seemed to run together.

Still, it was better than he expected. At least it wasn't like he heard. He hadn't heard one person say "Joisey" instead of "New Jersey". They took off the 'New' though.

Of course, as they were driving, they quickly passed through Pittsburgh one more time, in which Alfred started to play with a "gumband". How ridiculous! So England took the rubber band, and that was the end of that.

But now they were in New Jersey, and it was a NIGHTMARE.

Right now, America was talking to one of the locals.

"Jeet yet?" the person asked.

Alfred shook his head. "Naw, 'jew?"(Alfred later explained that they were saying 'Did you eat yet' and 'No, did you')

The man replied with, "Naw. I'll showya 'round. We can ead dogether."

"Okay witchyou, Iggy?" Alfred asked.

"I can't understand a bloody word you're saying!" Arthur snapped in response.

The man looked on quizzically.

Alfred turned to his citizen. "He's British," he said in response to the man's questioning stare.

"Oh. So, y'comin' or what?" asked the man.

Alfred shrugged. "Sure."

And before England knew it, he was eating God knows what (he refused to read the menu and couldn't understand a bloody word Alfred and the other man were saying when they ordered) in some little diner.

"So, y'from around here?" asked the man. (England recalled that his name was something along the lines of 'Mikey')

Alfred replied, "Actually, me'n' Arthur're just visitin'."

"Really?" Mikey asked. "Cuz y'sound like it."

"Well, it's kinda' complicaded," Alfred said.

Mikey shrugged. "Fair'nuff. One question: If 'is name's Arthur, why'd'ya callim Iggy?"

"Cuz'e's from England, an'Iggy sounds kinda like England."

"Oh," Mikey said.

At this point, England jumped up, grabbed America's sleeve, and pulled him towards the car.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Gotta go. I'll keep in touch, 'kay?" He and Mikey had exchanged phone numbers while England was surreptitiously banging his head against a wall.

Mikey nodded. "Bye."

"-Can't even understand a damn word you're saying," England was muttering. "And why on _earth_ would you exchange _telephone numbers_ with a stranger?"

And before they knew it, they were on the road again.


	6. Minnesota

**A/N: Okay, I have officially procrastinated on this for far too effing long. **

**But I have reasons! Firstly, I got grounded. Again. Because of my grades. Again. Secondly, I've got a shitload of projects to do, so... Ugh. Third, do you know how effing hard it is to write Minne-frickin'-sota?! But I did it, by simply getting around it. I DESCRIBED it, instead of actually typing it out. So, this one goes out to the awesome Megami Yari, who obviously is the one to request this. **

**And remember that little contest I had in my last chapter? Yes, it was a contest. And who won, you ask? Why, none other than the awesome Fence Walker. The answer was Mikey Way, bassist of My Chemical Romance. And everyone who guessed guessed right, but this is the one who guessed first. So, the little dearie wins: **

***announcer voice like in game shows* A fic of your choosing, and to hell with my rules (except the ones about length and het lemons...), which will be finished before any other request I have once you ask for it~! **

**Hey, I didn't say it was a GOOD prize. Anyway, congrats~! And congrats to the other person who got it right afterwards: Myde the Turk. **

**Anyway, here's my Minnesota. Remember, I got all my info on the accent from YouTube videos/comments and stuff. So don't shoot me if I'm wrong. I'm generalizing anyway. Based on the not-so-reliable Internet, I might add. **

**Standard warnings/disclaimers. And COMMENCE~! **

England was incredibly upset.

Well, not like that's anything new. Nor the reason… The reason being, America. America just wouldn't shut. The fuck. Up. And he was speaking like more of a git than usual.

_Why have I never noticed his bloody accents before?! _England wondered. _I could have corrected this problem earlier, instead of trying to run from it now. _

Of course, it didn't matter. What mattered was getting the hell out of Minnesota.

All Alfred did was elongate his 'o's and occasionally leave out a few vowels and consonants here and there, and once or twice he started to sound a little bit like his brother Matthew (not much, though), and say things like 'ya know', but it was enough.

He decided this while Alfred was talking to a 'Minnesotan'. And he decided it loudly.

"ALFRED F. JONES! BLOODY HELL, I CAN'T UNDERSTAND A SODDING WORD YOU'RE SAYING AND MAYBE YOU DON'T GIVE A DAMN BUT I DO! IF YOU WOULD HAVE JUST STAYED WITH ME YOU WOULD SPEAK PROPERLY, DAMMIT!" he screamed.

Alfred tried to shut him up, but he kept going on as if he were drunk (oh God, how he wished he was… then he wouldn't have to deal with this accent crap his former colony was putting him through).

After a minute or so, a small crowd of Minnesotans were gathered around the pair, some curious, some angry, and some generally amused. Mothers steered their curious children away from the fuming Brit whilst teenagers tried to supress their laughter.

Another minute passed, until Alfred yelled, "ARTHUR!" which effectively silenced the angry Island Nation, if only for a short while.

"What?!" the shorter man seethed, glaring up at the taller.

Alfred explained, in that awful Minnesotan accent of his (which was actually better than most of the other ones he'd been through, but it didn't take very long for it to get really annoying) that they were making a scene, and if Arthur resented the way Minnesotans talk then they should just leave and go somewhere else. A few of those who gathered around them clapped, and a few hooted. The teenagers were still trying not to laugh.

"… Bloody fine," Arthur snapped. America held out his sleeve, almost as an invitation, and Arthur smiled fleetingly before setting his face into a determined glare and dragging the younger man to their car. As the crowd parted, someone started to applaud, and others joined in, until everyone was clappign and cheering and chanting Alfred's name. "Jones, Jones, Jones!"

America smiled, flashed them a thumbs up, and prayed that England would let him get a hamburger on the way to wherever they were going next.


End file.
